


Let The Light Find You

by ababybat



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Background Relationships, Drama & Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, Fix-It, Keith/Shiro (Voltron)-centric, M/M, Pining, Shiro (Voltron) Is Bad At Relationships, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, The White Lion - Freeform, White Paladin Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 13:25:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17081105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ababybat/pseuds/ababybat
Summary: When Shiro is brought back to life and deposited into his clone's body, he becomes the one thing he always swore he would never be: Useless. Without a Lion to call his own, he's no longer really a part of Voltron, and now Shiro has to find a new place for himself in the universe. To make matters worse, the journey back to Earth is complicated and full of dangers, and while Shiro juggles feeling lost and alone with trying to stop his relationship with Keith from falling apart, the enigmatic White Lion reveals it isn't done with the former Black Paladin just yet.A Voltron: Legendary Defender fix-it fic. Completely disregards both seasons 7 and 8.





	Let The Light Find You

**Author's Note:**

> Well, season 8 is a thing that... happened. Which I will refuse to acknowledge in any way, shape, or form. As a Shiro fan I am deeply hurt and troubled by how the writers handled him and his character arc, and I'll never forgive them for sacrificing him in their game of rep bingo. Anyway, we shall take that hurt and create something beautiful! Or just something slightly better.
> 
> What I'm saying is that we're going old school: fix it so hard that we never think of season 8 again. I wasn't a major fan of season 7 either, so I'm happy to sacrifice it in my grand schemes to give Shiro the character arc I wanted him to have. I've always been disappointed that a bond between the White Lion and Shiro was teased, and then sacrificed for the Atlas plot. No biggie, I get to play with it. I am keeping Shiro's history, though, while also expanding upon it because... Wow... They literally told us nothing about his past. 
> 
> This is Shiro centric, but I really enjoyed Keith's arc, so I'll try my best to do him justice. Anyway, enjoy!

_How do you fly with no wings?_

_How do you breathe without dreams?_

_Where do we go from here?_

_Ruelle – Where Do We Go From Here_

 

* * *

 

 

The enduring hum now embedded deep in the back of Shiro's mind is nothing at all like the comforting vibration he was once so very used to.

The droning used to mean that his lion, the mighty and magnificent Black Lion, was fully merged with his consciousness and ready to follow Shiro's lead just as he was ready to follow hers. But now her once comforting _purring_ is completely gone, replaced by a buzz Shiro can only describe as something that sounds a lot like static, and no matter how he tries to search, he just can't find Black's familiar presence anymore.

It's like trying to tune into a channel with one of those really old television sets that have the aerials that always reminded Shiro of bunny ears; no matter how hard you try to land on a single channel, all you get is empty, disappointing static.

The emptiness of it makes Shiro's skin crawl. It makes him feel like a total stranger in his own body. Which Shiro is, he supposes. The clone's body may have accepted his soul, but that doesn't make it _his_. His body was painfully flawed, even before the Galra twisted him to suit their dark needs. The agony he grew up with was a companion in a truly miserable kind of way, reminding him that time was always running out and there would be no chance to be idle. Now there's no more pain, just a missing limb, and the clone's body is almost too perfect; too damn strong. Too much like the weapon the Galra always wanted him to be.

With an incessant droning sound that simply _won't go away_.

Shiro doesn't know how long the humming has been there. Then again, he has no idea how much time has passed since Allura pulled him away from the one thing that tethered him to reality and kept the jaws of oblivion from gnashing down on his very existence. It could've been minutes, hours, days, weeks... He doesn't know.

Time was irrelevant in Black's astral plane, and Shiro worries he'll never truly be able to comprehend the passing of it ever again. Will years go by in a blink of an eye, or will minutes pass like heavy molasses?

What if he's broken? A person doesn't die and spend their afterlife in a beautiful yet mostly empty void without it having some kind of negative impact on their psyche.

What if he's going insane again? What if the madness that overwhelmed his clone is still there lurking in his mind, and the relentless humming is simply a warning that eventually he'll snap again and kill all the people he loves? What if he's just always been a ticking time bomb?

Maybe the people that die should just stay dead, Shiro thinks as he slams his head back against the wall in a fit of passing fury.

The pain that explodes in the back of his skull provides temporary relief from the static. Shiro pauses, considers the few pros and many cons, before doing it again. Then again, and again.

Again.

And Again.

A noticeable tremor passes through Black's colossal frame. Shiro doesn't need a connection to her to know that he's worrying her.

He doesn't want to worry his former Lion or anyone else, but Shiro _needs_ this so damn much. Pain is something he's used to. He knows how to handle it, and so eagerly continues knocking his head back against the metal wall.

"You'll give yourself a concussion if you keep that up."

Shiro opens his eyes to find Krolia standing in the small cargo bay's doorway with an emergency blanket folded in her arms.

"M'sorry," Shiro mumbles.

Feeling self-conscious and silly, he runs his hand over the back of his tender head. His fingers briefly tug at his white hair as he imagines what he looks like now. Old and faded, probably. Completely washed out.   

"No need to apologize to _me_ ," Krolia replies. Her tone isn't unkind, exactly. Maybe just a touch strained. Possibly unsure even?

Or perhaps Shiro's only imagining it. For as much as she resembles Keith, he finds it incredibly difficult to read her.

Krolia's footsteps are silent as she approaches Shiro, and the way he tenses up is entirely instinctive; it happens before Shiro can even think to remind himself that while Krolia is undeniably a stranger to him, Keith's mother isn't an enemy out to catch him off guard.

She immediately picks up on Shiro's rigid shoulders, how ready he is to defend himself should his paranoia prove true. Krolia pauses mid step, and tries valiantly to appear a little bit less threatening in her Galra uniform by hunching her shoulders down in an effort to diminish her natural height.

Finally, Krolia smiles as she lifts the blanket in her arms.

"I thought you'd be a little more comfortable with this."

Shame burns scalding hot in Shiro's belly. He doesn't deserve her kindness at all.

"I'm sorry," he says again when he humbly accepts the blanket from her.

Whatever material it's made out of is thin and too rough to ever be considered comfortable. It reminds Shiro a little too much of the blanket his Galra captors rewarded him with after he won his fifth gladiator match. He hopes he isn't terribly obvious about it when he drops it down beside him instead of draping it over himself.

"Again, don't apologize," Krolia replies. "I imagine you're still adjusting."

"All I ever seem to do is adjust. I really should be used to it by now," Shiro jokes lamely.

Krolia's smile droops a little. He supposes making awful jokes after nearly murdering her son isn't something she'd ever appreciate.

Shiro winces. "I can't imagine what you must think of me."

He doesn't know what Keith could have told Krolia to make her zero in on him with such intensity – not _him_ , the clone – but Shiro is positive he isn't living up to her many, _many_ expectations.

Her smile has vanished, and the pity in Krolia's peculiar eyes is so similar to the way Adam used to look at him whenever his allotted time was cut in half. Ten years became five, and then five were two. By two, Shiro was running towards his dreams and burning nearly every bridge behind him as one final _fuck you_ to whatever deity thought to keep him away from the stars.

Shiro hated the pity then, and he hates it now.

Then it melts away.

"I think," Krolia begins, "that you've been through more than any person should ever have to go through. I also think that if you really are the man my son thinks you are, then you'll get up on your feet again. This," she waves her hand at nothing, "is all temporary."

"The scars definitely aren't temporary." Shiro hates how bitter he sounds.

"No, they aren't." Krolia shifts so that her arms are crossed over her chest. "But they are a reminder that you survived despite it all."

Shiro bites back a scoff. Whether they're a soldier of The Empire or a Blade of Marmora, the Galra are always extremely thrilled with any and all kind of pain they've had to endure for their cause. _Knowledge or death_ isn't all that different from _victory or death_ , after all...

"Maybe," Shiro mutters.

"I am right." Krolia is smiling again. "I have a few scars, too. They still hurt and I know the pain will never fade away, but they are a testament to my will to live. To my strength and ability to fight another day, so that one day I could see my son again."

"I don't know if I can fight anymore," Shiro confesses, voice trapped in a wounded exhale. Admitting as much is agony and makes him feel heavy. Tired. Defeated.

He feels like a failure.

"Maybe you can't," Krolia replies kindly. "Maybe you've given all you have to give."

Angry, frustrated tears prick at his gray eyes. The back of his fingers tremble when they wipe furiously at his cheeks. Shiro has to look away from her; he can't stand the fact that someone is seeing him so vulnerable.

"But," Krolia continues, "You have sacrificed more than many others. No one can deny that you have fought harder than most."

Shiro wants to argue and say that it simply isn't good enough. He doesn't, though. He nods instead and bites down on his lower lip when it continues to tremble with pent up emotion, and hopes Krolia will be kind enough to drop the subject while he still has some of his dignity left.

Thankfully, she is.

"I'll leave you to rest," Krolia says after a few moments of silence.

But Krolia has barely turned to leave when the door hisses open to reveal Keith.

Shiro speedily rubs at his wet cheeks to get rid of the remaining tears before Keith can see them, but Shiro knows he's failed when Keith's expression falters.

"What's wrong? What happened? Shiro, are you okay? Are you hurt?" Keith demands to know, and there's a panicked edge to his voice that has Shiro wincing from guilt.

"Calm yourself, little star," Krolia says while holding up both her hands in an attempt to pacify her fiery son. "Everything is absolutely fine. I brought Shiro a blanket, and then we talked for a bit."

"Oh." Keith relaxes a little, then looks absolutely mortified. "I didn't even think of that."

"You've been busy." Krolia puts her hand on his shoulder, and squeezes gently. "Leading our group through Galra patrols is very busy work."

"Hn." Keith's gaze finds Shiro again, and it's obvious Keith still believes he should have been the one to see to Shiro's needs.

It warms Shiro's heart.

"I'll leave you two alone." Krolia gives Shiro one more smile over her shoulder. "I'm sure you have a lot of catching up to do."

Then Krolia is gone. The only evidence that she was ever really there is the blanket Shiro can't bring himself to touch.

Being alone with Keith isn't awkward at all, but Shiro would be a liar if he said that things aren't different.

Keith is older and wiser now. His rough and sharp edges have been smoothed over into something truly incredible, and Shiro missed all of it.

He finds himself grieving for the time they've lost. Shiro mourns that he didn't get to watch the effervescent boy he took a wild chance on grow up into the beautiful young man he is today.

And god, Keith really is incredibly beautiful.

Keith was gorgeous on that hill outside the dilapidated shack he called home. Bathed in the warmth of dawn, he was so different from the pain and brutality Shiro had grown accustomed to while imprisoned; a much needed reminder that there was still loveliness to be found in the universe. But now? Now Keith is nothing short of radiant.

His star is still burning bright. Meanwhile, Shiro's is in its final, sputtering death throes.

"Are you really okay?" Keith asks, snapping Shiro out of his gloomy contemplations. "Black is worried about you." His gloved hand rubs along the back of his neck as he adds, " _I'm_ worried about you."

Shiro forces a smile. "I'm fine."

His voice is still thick from his previous tears, and Shiro cringes at the sound of it. For his part, Keith remains skeptical.

"Really?"

"As fine as I can be given the circumstances," Shiro finally admits.

The apprehension doesn't leave Keith's expression, but he nods before coming to sit in front of Shiro.

"You really don't hear or feel Black anymore?" Keith blurts out without any kind of finesse.

It's so like Keith that Shiro can't even pretend to be taken aback.

"No." He shakes his head. "Whatever Allura did when she took me from Black must have completely severed the connection between us." Shiro's hand moves along his lap, and his palm rubs over the hard and white greaves of his paladin armor.

He shouldn't wear it now that he isn't a paladin anymore, but he has no choice. It's not like anyone packed a change of clothes for him before everything went to hell.

"Shiro..."

The hurt in Keith's voice is too much.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful." Not a lie, Shiro muses. Not the whole truth either, though. "But I feel... Empty."

The misery in Keith's periwinkle eyes brings back terrible memories. Shiro can feel the violent shuddering of a collapsing platform, and Keith's name is like a hot brand on his tongue. There's confusion and shame and heartache, and Keith is staring at him like his world has just ended.

"I'm sorry," Keith whispers. "It should be you. You're her paladin and I—"

Shiro instantly snaps out of the bitter, fragmented memories that aren't even really _his_. The way Keith's voice shuddered is too goddamn painful, and Shiro's heavy, burdened heart shatters for his lovely, fiery boy who hurts and _hurts_ because he foolishly decided he would love Shiro so damn much.

"Keith... Hey, no... _No_." Shiro shuffles forward until there's very little space between them. "Look at me," his hand is quick to find Keith's warm cheek, and soon his thumb is ever so softly stroking along the new scar, "you don't ever have to feel guilty or think that you need to apologize to me, okay? You are the Black Paladin now. _You_ are the Head of Voltron, and you're going to be so amazing."

Keith's eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and they're so bright and lovely that Shiro thinks he'll go blind if he looks for too long.

Maybe he's okay with that.

"But I took that away from you."

"No, you didn't." Shiro smiles and finally means it. "You saved me, remember? You saved me and I lo—"

_And I love you_ _,_ _too. Truly_ _,_ _madly_ _,_ _deeply_ _–_ _I love you._

Such a simple statement, but it catches somewhere in Shiro's throat and he can't bring himself to say it. And not because he doesn't mean it; he does. Oh, Shiro _does_. He loves Keith more than he ever thought he could love someone. Yet Shiro also knows better than anyone how damaging a person's love can be – how limiting and controlling – and he will not be to Keith what Adam almost was to him.

So Shiro swallows the confession back down, and pretends Keith doesn't completely wilt in front of him.

"You saved me," Shiro reiterates, "and now you're going to save the whole universe. You're exactly what we need right now, and so much more than we deserve. I may not be a paladin or a part of the fight anymore," a wounded whine slips through Keith's parted lips, but Shiro stubbornly continues on, "but I'm gonna watch you reach heights I could only ever dream of, and I hope you know how proud..." Emotion is thick in his throat again. "How proud I am, and how happy I am to see how far you've come."

"You're still a paladin, Shiro." Keith's fingers are tight around his wrist.

_I won't ever let go_ , those fingers tell him.

"I'm not, and that's okay."

_I know_ , _but you have to because I'll only drag you down with me_ , is what Shiro should say but _can't_ because Keith means _everything_ to him.

"No, it _isn't_." Anger flares bright in Keith's brilliant eyes. "You can't just _say_ that and expect me to—"

"Keith—"

"I can't do this without you," Keith breathes.

Shiro vehemently disagrees – Keith is the strongest person he knows; he can do anything he sets his mind to. However, arguing about it will only hurt Keith even more and Shiro is so tired of being the reason why Keith looks so miserable all the time.

"C'mere," Shiro mumbles. With his hand now hooked around the back of Keith's neck, he pulls the younger man towards him.

Keith melts into him without any kind of fuss or struggle. Two strong arms circle around Shiro's waist and hold on tight. Keith's face buries deep into his neck, his mouth brushing against the delicate curve of Shiro's jaw.

It feels right and it always has. It feels natural, as if the only place they'll ever truly belong is with each other.

"I'm still here," Shiro whispers. "I may not be able to fight beside you anymore, but I'm right behind you. If you ever stumble, or if you ever need someone to remind you how wonderful you are, then just look behind you, okay? I'll be here waiting."

"And what if I need more than that?" Keith asks softly, his breath hot and soft against Shiro's skin.

Shiro stiffens. He isn't stupid or blind... He knows _exactly_ what Keith means and what he wants.

The crush Keith once had on him was something of an open secret despite all the times Keith tried to protect himself by calling Shiro his _brother_. It was flattering and cute, but ultimately insignificant. They were friends, true kindred spirits, and Shiro was so sure that when he came back from Kerberos, Keith would have grown completely out of it, maybe even started dating someone his own age. But then fate dealt them a cruel hand, and his disappearance, his supposed downfall and death, only intensified Keith's feelings. An innocent crush developed into something so much deeper, and became even more passionate every time Keith took on the whole universe in Shiro's name.

Now Keith is in love with him, and somewhere between Keith rescuing him from the Garrison and vowing that he wouldn't let anything happen to him, Shiro started falling in love with Keith too.

but Shiro can't give him what he wants no matter how much he would like to.

Shiro is too damaged and broken. Too much horror has stripped him of everything good and pure he could have offered up to Keith, and he wears the physical proof of his ruin like a badge of dishonor. Keith deserves someone so much better than him, and one day when the dust has settled, Keith will finally realize that. Keith will understand, and maybe he'll even be grateful that Shiro stopped him from chaining himself to a hopeless cause.

So, Shiro will break both their hearts if it means Keith will have a future in which he can thrive without Shiro there to drag him down.

"I'll support you any way I can, Keith. You already know that."

Keith pulls away from him, obviously hurt. The way his eyebrows are knitted together and his eyes shine, confused and desperate to understand, has Shiro feeling a little breathless.

"Shiro," he tries again, "I don't know if maybe I wasn't clear, but I lov—"

"I'm tired," Shiro chokes out before Keith can finish dooming them both. "I think I'd like to be alone for a while."

The devastation written on Keith's face will haunt Shiro for the rest of his life.

"Okay." Keith nods. He's quick to turn away in a desperate attempt to hide the tears that are clinging to his dark lashes, but Shiro sees them and he aches to wipe them away. Staying his hand and keeping it locked to his side is almost physically painful.

And then Keith is back on his feet and out the door, leaving Shiro to stew in his own misery.

The hum is still there, he realizes as silence follows Keith's departure. Shiro swears it's louder than ever before.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I sneak a Savage Garden reference in there? You bet I did! I wasn't kidding when I added the _Shiro (Voltron) Is Bad At Relationships_ tag, but I will say now: this ISN'T a slow burn. I think the show itself was slow burn enough without any emotional pay-off, and I'm eager to get to the pay-off. Shiro's just not thinking straight.
> 
> If anyone reading this is also aware of _With Teeth_ , I have not abandoned it. I got distracted by Red Dead Redemption 2 (RIP me) and then season 8 happened and now I have to fix the mess DreamWorks left behind or die trying.


End file.
